Twisted
by SnowdropBeast
Summary: AU: His soul was just as twisted as the scars that snaked over his body. The systematic little slashes meant to break him just turned him from a frightened child into a monster. A twisted creature that spent his time hunting down the filthiest of humans and devouring their souls, under the watchful eyes of the Death Inc. Rated M for Blood, violence, language, and sexual themes
1. Preface

_Preface: Hero_

**AN: So this is the first time in a long time I've written anything. I hope you enjoy this twisted AU and if you don't…well I'm not sure what to tell you. Hopefully the next chapters will be longer and well just better. I appreciate any reviews/favs/fallows, sorry if I don't respond to your review…I'm awkward like that.**

It was always the same.

Their age, race, station, and crimes might be different but his task was always the same.

Kill and eat.

It was the only two things he ever had to do. It sounded so simple and in all honesty it was...but that's what made it so sickening. Even those he worked with couldn't understand why it was so easy for him to walk into someone's home, torture them to death, then devour their soul. They were, no matter the crime, still human. How could he commit those gruesome acts on fellow humans and not so much as blink (let alone wince and empty his stomach as so many of his colleagues did)? He'd never blamed them for asking that question...well he had until he realized that they hadn't had to live the first seventeen years of his existence. They had heard the reports of what his targets had done but it wasn't real to them, just words on paper. The victims were faceless, just ages and genders. His acts, however, were too real. It was too much for most to handle so they averted their gaze and shuffled past him. Judging him without knowing the twisted scars he bore. Judging him for doing exactly what he'd been asked to do.

It still baffled him that one of the most gentle people in the world had the courage to befriend him. Her partner had quickly followed after her and now the duo were the only two people who he considered friends. She still cringed when she saw him come back wearing the blood of his targets like a second skin but she'd still smile softly and pull any food out of the fridge her gluttonous partner had yet to get to before running him a bath. She treated him like a younger sibling and he was grateful, though he'd probably never say it aloud. After food and a bath he'd crash on their couch, more comfortable in their apartment then he was in his house...probably because of the impromptu experimentation and modification he often went through when he finally decided to sleep.

He shivered a bit as he stepped out of his standard inconspicuous, but creepy as shit if you saw it randomly parked on your street, black car and into the cold night air. It wasn't cold enough to snow but with the way he shook it might as well have been. He didn't live in the middle of the desert because he enjoyed the scenery. He always hated the way the cold numbed his fingers and made his breath visible. The cold also reminded him of things that were best left forgotten, especially on a mission. He'd bring them up later when they were crying and pleading for their lives. Promising him anything just so they could keep on breathing. If he remembered then his task would be just as easy as it sounded.

He stood there for a minute as he sorted through the noise of the bustling red light district. It was hard for him to be in such a place for long. The souls of the forgotten and the wicked sang out. It's melody dark and twisted. It prodded at the beast that lived just below his tattered veil of civility, trying to get it to act. It was hard not to give into the discordant beat, but he had several years of practice.

Slowly he approached the club. It's pulsing neon lights flickering over his hair and making it appear as though it had color. One black gloved hand gripped the edges of his jacket as he gave one final shutter before knocking on the heavy black door. It opened slowly to reveal a man who was a few inches shorter and far wider than he was. "What do you want?" he asked, his voice harsh and intimidating (or would be to anyone who didn't know what such a voice would sound like when it began pleading for its life).

"I'm here to see Mr. Smith." His voice was far more intimidating then the guard's. It was deep, dark, hypnotic and promised pain (lots of it) if he didn't get his way. He held back a smile as the guard shiver. He knew the guard was used to all manner of twisted fuckers coming to the club's back entrance to do business with his boss but he was probably the scariest by far. With shock white hair and eyes the same color as blood he looked as though he'd just stepped off the screen of a horror movie.

Not wanting to argue with him the guard stepped back and allowed him to step into the relative warmth of the club. The guard quickly locked the door then pressed on the ear piece hidden in his left ear. "Dex, can you please tell Mr. Smith that he has a guest?" The guard waited a moment for a reply then turned to him and asked, while trying to keep the shaking out of his voice, "What's your name Sir?"

"SoulEater" He responded simply. The man shuttered again and repeated his name back to Dex before ushering him to a private bar. The guard told him someone would come get him in a moment before fleeing as fast as he could while trying to pretend he wasn't running away. Yawning at the man's reaction SoulEater turned towards the bar. Standing on the other side was a topless girl, because she couldn't be more than fifteen, obsessively polishing a cup in her hand. He knew it was because she didn't want to get yelled at or worse, because she was staring at him. Trying not to startle her he crossed his arms on the counter and lowered his head. His gaze drifted over to the alcohol above her head. He let her get used to his presence before finally speaking. "Hey"

Even though he'd voice had been soft she jumped as though he'd yelled at her. "I -I'm sorry, can I g-get something for you?" Her stammering voice ended in a little squeak. She clutched the piece of cloth in her hand to her small chest and sat the shot glass on the table. She was openly shaking and trying hard to avoid his gaze. If she could shrink down to nothing she probably would have. He didn't blame her, after all he scared the shit out of almost everyone.

Sighing softly he shook his head. "Not really," He doubted she actually knew how to mix drinks or even what half the stuff behind the bar was...and he needed a clear head to finish his mission. The room fell into silence until SoulEater straightened and stretched his arms over his head causing his back to crack. Once more the girl jumped, as did the guard much to his amusement. "you're jumpy" He pointed out earning a quick glance from her.

"Sorry." she mumbled before picking up the shot glass and putting it away. He watched as she then proceeded to wipe down the bar.

He shrugged and dropped back onto the bar. "It's cool, I make everyone jumpy. Including the big burly guy over there." He signaled the guard with a jerk of his head and the girl's lips twitched before a small smile broke out across her face. He smiled as well though it was hidden behind his arms. Both their smiles vanished as soon as they heard the click of the inner door's lock being undone. The man that came out had started to head for the bar only to be pinned in place by a set of cold red eyes. He swallowed and opened his mouth. After a few moments of it hanging open he closed it then tried again. After a few minutes SoulEater became bored with his fish interpretation and stood. One of his black gloved hands reached into his ridding jacket's pocket and pulled out a couple bills (all hundreds). He placed them in front of the girl before walking towards the man, who proceeded to jump back and quickly lead him through the door.

When in the presence of a particularly nasty soul it was hard not to drool like a mongrel staring at a juicy steak. Despite the amount of missions he'd been on he still had as much control over that as he did his hair...which was very little. He'd tried just about everything but had come to the conclusion that nothing short of more genetic modification was going to fix it. So, like his hair, he just let the drool do whatever it wanted. He could live with the weird looks.

"So you're the infamous SoulEater." His target said softly from behind as heavy mahogany desk. He was probably in his mid to late thirties with slicked back jet black hair and cold blue eyes. He was dressed in a charcoal colored suit with a blue silk tie. He completed the civil look with a soft smile that made SoulEater's skin crawl. "I can see why my doorman was so terrified of you, you have quite the frightening appearance. You must have a hard time finding company." Mr. Smith practically purred the final words as he leaned forward. When SoulEater didn't respond he leaned back and frowned. He waved a hand and the man who led him in shuffled nervously past him before leaning towards his boss. After a short hushed conversation the man left the room. Once the man left SoulEater pretended to allow himself to relax. "Now that the nuisance is gone let's get down to business."

"Let's." He growled, flashing massive shark like teeth in a twisted smile.

Outside of the small room nothing could be heard. Not the screams or the begging or the promises or the threats. Not the praying to God as though an all knowing being existed...and if it did why would it help the slim that dwelled on the belly of the Earth not his victims? SoulEater told him as much the man's response was to say he was helping them. SoulEater's response was to bend his arm in such a way that the muscles tore. Even that Earth shattering scream was not heard out of the confines of the small office. Cuts that would never turn into painful scars, torn muscles that wouldn't heal wrong and ache when turned the wrong way, broken bones that would never set wrong and feel stiff when the weather turned cold. Mr. Smith had them all. Blood was pouring from his broken body as he lay there not quite dead but wishing he was. Leaning against the door SoulEater watched as his target breathe his last gurgling ragged shallow breaths with the same expression that the average person had when told that the sky was blue.

When the room fell silent he pushed off the door and walked over to the man's dead body. His glassy eyes stared up at him as he reached down and grabbed the man's soul. The blackened shriveled thing wailed loudly the moment his hand touched it. It's dark light pulsed in terror as SoulEater opened his mouth and tilted back his head. The soul gave a final scream before it was swallowed whole, it's black light gone forever.

The door swung open and he exited. The man who'd led him inside the room looked at him but before he could react SoulEater muttered "sleep and forget you ever saw me." The man wasted no time in crumbling to the ground. The girl at the bar went ignored. The guard slumped against the door as SoulEater reiterated his order. With his task complete he exited the club and out into the cold night air.

He'd been told man times that his actions bettered the world. Every devoured soul was one more that could no longer hurt others. They made him out to be a hero...all while cringing and keeping their distance.

He knew the truth though. He was no hero but a monster.

A monster who was very good at killing and eating.


	2. Chapter One: Death City

_Chapter One: Death City_

**AN: **I don't even know anymore man. This chapter…I'm not sure if I like it or hate it. It started off good but I don't know maybe I'm being too harsh on myself. Pretty much all that happens here is that Soul and Maka meet, however they don't know each other's names…Yes, Soul still likes teasing Maka and he will eventually get Maka chopped.

Death City wasn't on any map though just about everyone knew where it was. It wasn't a place people often visited, even though it's crime rate was rumored to be an ever elusive zero, mainly because it was crawling with assassins. The bulk of society left them be, seeing them as a necessary evil, but there where those (either due to fear of them becoming too powerful or that their nefarious deeds would be discovered) that wanted the city and its inhabitants destroyed. Thankfully, while everyone knew where it was it was impossible to find. Unless you had a map.

Maka Albarn had found one of the few. It was crumpled from being shoved in the back of a drawer and worn due to age but it was still legible. A fact that the young woman was thankful for because, if it hadn't been, then she would have died in the middle of the God forsaken desert trying to rescue a man she wanted to beat over the head with the largest book in her collection.

Her father had always been secretive about his life before he met her mother and it had always bothered her (not as much as his playboy nature but still). He'd never spoken about his family and only made a vague comment about an old friend. The one time she'd asked him about jobs he'd had before becoming a police officer he'd clammed up and refused to say a word about it. He'd never even bothered to tell her, or her mother, when he was from. His unwillingness to talk about his past drove a wedge between father and daughter, or rather widened one made by him cheating. That's why when her parents finally divorced she moved with her mother half way across the country. Her father had tried to call and write but the calls went unanswered and the letters were shredded before being opened. After a year they finally stopped.

Three days ago she'd received a package with no return address. Most people would have freaked out and called the authorities, Maka reasoned that since she was no one of importance she didn't have to worry about it being a bomb. Inside she found a series of leather bound books. Slightly confused, since she hadn't ordered any new books in the last four months, she picked up one causing a piece of scrap paper to flutter out from between the pages and land on her kitchen table. After setting the book down she picked up the paper and bristled. She almost threw the note, and the books, in the trash but something caught her eye. Her father's handwriting was normally incredibly delicate looking but this note, while still recognizable as her father's handwriting, was rather sloppy looking. Slowly she dropped down into one of the high backed kitchen chairs, curiosity winning out over her distaste for her father. The note read:

_Maka, I know we haven't spoke in years and you have every right to be mad at me but this is a matter concerning your safety. Remember when you asked me about my life before I met your mother? I never told either of you because I thought by keeping it a secret I could protect you. I was wrong. I was born in Death city and was one of the first to undergo genetic modification. After I left I hid my abilities and hoped that no one would find out. It turns out that there were many people looking for me and I have been found. By the time you read this I'll probably be dead, but they shouldn't have found you yet. At the bottom of the box is a map to Death city. Please go there and find a man named Dr. Stein he's an old friend and will help you...just don't lower your guard around him and you'll be fine. I'm sorry._

_Love, Papa_

For a moment all Maka could do was stare at the letter in her hands. Her expression was blank and she wasn't completely sure how she should feel. Her father might be dead and someone now wanted to come after her. Why? She was just a librarian in a town that was so small it wasn't even on maps. She didn't have any special talents other than being above average intelligence and being good at solving puzzles. Why would they come after her?

The more Maka thought about it the madder she became. She wanted to repeatedly wack her father in the head with her copy of Of War and Peace. The thought of him being dead was impossible. He was too resourceful, and damn good at avoiding people. She had no doubt that he was in danger. He wouldn't have divulged his past if he wasn't. She knew she'd end up going to Death city she couldn't let her father die, even if he was a lieing bastard. If he had friends here they would probably be willing to help...though that one comment about Dr. Stein did make her a little nervous.

She leaned forward and rummaged through the rest of the books to find the crumpled old map. After scanning it quickly she laid it face down on her table and set about packing, all while cursing her stupid father under her breath.

The trip to Nevada hadn't been too bad, other then the fact that she had a tub of lard practically laying in her lap the entire time and the guy next to her had a bad habit of drooling as he slept, something Maka could not stand. The stewardess had been nice and the flight had been on time (both arriving and leaving). Her rental car had been ready when she arrived and had GPS, which had been incredibly helpful in finding Death Valley.

The trouble began once she was in the sand pit. While on the road the ride had been smooth, though once she went off road she began cursing her father loudly. One of the tires decided to give out about thirty minutes into the trip so she had to put on the spare which was smaller then all the other wheels so the car began to do some weird wobbly lurching thing. Another hour later a rock popped another tire. By that time it was dark and Maka decided, After screaming loudly at the desert, that she'd stop for the night and and continue at dawn. In the morning she'd felt better and all was going well...until the car sputtered and gave out ten miles before reaching her destination. Angry beyond belief she grabbed her one bag, several bottles of water, and began her trek through the desert.

By the time she arrived in the city it was near dusk. She was sunburned and her feet hurt but she still couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment. She'd made it. She wanted to cheer but instead remained quiet. She didn't really want to run into any of the cities inhabitants or rather draw their attention. Since outsiders didn't go to Death city she was unsure how they'd react to one.

Slowly she continued walking. Every once in awhile she'd glance down at the address her father had scribbled in the corner of the map. Though with no knowledge of the city it wasn't very helpful. Asking for directions was out and she doubted they had a town directory. She doubted she'd find the place before nightfall, if at all.

Maka remained lost in thought until she bumped into something hard. At first she thought it was a wall, but the last she checked walls weren't warm and didn't have heartbeats. Swallowing Maka looked up, and up, only to meet a set of cold red eyes. She'd always thought red was a warm color, something that invoked thoughts of fire and heat, but those eye made her shiver. Her mouth went dry but she refused to be intimidated. Stealing her self she forced her gaze away from his eyes and took in the rest of his face. He had messy shock white hair, while its color made him look old it's style was boyish. His skin was tanned but not overly so. His jaw was strong and clenched tightly. His mouth was set in a dissatisfied frown, almost like he didn't like what he was seeing while he looked at her. His lips parted and revealed teeth that would have made a shark jealous. "What are you doing here?" He growled.

His voice was harsh yet oddly hypnotic, she found herself wanting to hear him speak again. The thought was so out of character for her that it snapped her back to reality. She was standing face to face with a very large, very tall man that was probably one of the city's assassin's. Unsure exactly how to deal with him she decided to do what she always did when confronted with pushy men. She tightened her grip on her bag, kneed the man in the testicles and ran like hell. A satisfied grin split her face as she heard the man curse under his breath.

She managed to get half way down the street before he was able to right himself and chase after her. She would have been impressed by his speed if he hadn't been using it to catch her. The man had ended up in front of her, once more causing her to run into his chest. Before she could react violently to being cut off the man grabbed her wrists in one of his large gloved hands and backed her into a wall. She squirmed a bit then tried to knee him again. This time the white haired man twisted his body causing her knee to do nothing more than ghost by his thigh. Once her foot was back on the ground he leaned into her and pressed her fully against the wall. Unable to lift her legs or move her arms she shot him a Death glare and silently cursed the fact that looks couldn't kill.

Once she quieted down the man spoke, his teeth flashing dangerously in the dimming light. "I'll ask you again, what are you doing here?" His voice was much harsher this time, but she really hadn't expected him to be nice to her after her knee met such a sensitive area.

Maka thought about not answering and continuing her one sided glaring match, at least until she realized how close they were...or rather realized how close his face was to her's. Her face heated and she tried to move her head back, only to smack it against the stone wall. She refused to allow herself to panic, instead she snapped at him. "If I tell you will you get your heavy ass off me?"

His mouth twitched into a humorless smile. "Technically, tiny tits, my ass isn't on you." Maka huffed and wiggled, trying to knee him again. His smile dissipated and he snarled at her. "Stop moving!" pressed as close to him as she was she could feel the erratic pounding of his heart against her collar bone. Had it always been like that?

She was still furious at him for pinning her against a wall, and for the comment about her boobs, but she forced herself to calm enough so she wouldn't yell at him. "Fine then," she hissed through clenched teeth. "if I tell you will you back up?"

He was silent for a moment. "Only if you don't knee me in the nuts again." he responded.

"Fine." She grumbled. She took a deep breath then let it out. "My idiotic papa got himself kidnapped and informed me, via letter, that they'd be coming after me so I needed to come to Death city and find an old friend of his named Dr. Stein." With that said Maka readied herself for his response. She wasn't quiet sure what she'd been expecting him to do but him releasing her and stepping back definitely wasn't it.

He seemed to have decided to believe her but now seemed to be wondering what to do with her. Maka took the chance to take in a bit more of the man then his devilish facial features...She wasn't checking him out. No, she told herself, she was sizing him up.

She'd already realized he was tall, but being a little less than a foot away from him made her realize just how tall he was. Maka was not a tall woman. In fact she only stood an inch above average height but she still rarely met a man that was more then two or three inches taller than her. This man had to tower over her by at least a foot. It made her feel so small...and weak. Neither were things she liked to feel. Even though his arms were crossed over his chest and his leather jacket was drawn tautly over his shoulders, she didn't see any sign that he had the muscle necessary to pin her to the wall. In fact his build didn't seem capable of supporting a lot of muscle. His waist was narrow, his limbs long, and even though his shoulders were wide he looked...delicate? No. Feminine? Definitely not. Aristocratic? It was odd but it was the only thing that seemed to fit.

Her thoughts were disrupted by a snort, "Are you done ogling me yet?" He half growled while flashing his teeth, in what he was trying to pass off as a smile. He shifted his weight and seemed uncomfortable with her staring at him.

"I'm just seeing how much force I'd need to put behind throwing you if you act up again." She snapped. If her face wasn't already red because of her sunburn it would be now.

He snorted again. "As I recall you struck me when all I did was as a question."

Maka couldn't help but wince. She had acted harshly but dammit she was scared. She wasn't going to tell him that so instead she raised her head and stared him down. "It doesn't matter now, do you know where Dr. Stein lives or no?"

The man sighed and ran his fingers through his snow colored hair. "Yeah, I'll take you there...only because I happen to be going there myself and it wouldn't be cool to let you wander around kicking my co-workers in the nuts because you don't like the profession or something." Without saying more He spun on his heel and began to walk away leaving Maka to trail after him wondering what adult male used the word cool.

SoulEater wondered what in the hell had possessed him to approach yet alone talk to the girl who was now following closely behind him. Maybe it was because she looked like she was only fourteen or so...especially with her twin pigtails. Maybe it was her lost, and angry, expression. Maybe it really didn't fucking matter because even if he hadn't walked up to her she would have ran in to someone else who'd point her in the right direction...or called Stein who would have called him to come and get her. Despite being assassins everyone in Death City was pretty friendly...with the exception of him. Hell even Stein was friendly, in a creepy sort of way and only so you'd let him cut you open.

The walk to the lab was fairly silent. Every once in awhile they'd come across someone who'd squeak or make some other uncool noise before running off in the opposite direction. Every time it happened he could feel her turn to look at him, wondering why people reacted in such a way to him, as though his looks weren't reason enough. Even though it'd been happening for years it still didn't mean that some part of him didn't hurt when they ran like that. It made him feel like a little kid all over again...

He quickly squelched that train of thought. Nothing good came from the past, and the last thing he needed was to throw another fit when he'd barely calmed down from the last one (and only thanks to a dose of heavy drugs). They were growing in frequency and severity. He, and everyone else, doubted his mind could take many more of these missions before he fully snapped.

If that happened the short leash they kept him on would become a hangman's noose.

He peaked back at the girl who seemed to be in awe of the scenery. It'd baffled him the first time too. Even though they were in the middle of a desert the city was full of green. Huge trees and shrubs lined several of the streets and filled massive parks. Most of the inhabitants even kept lush gardens. Hell, even he wasn't immune to Death city's favorite pass time...though he preferred cacti and carnivorous plants. It looked more like a town you'd find in some state where it rained every day, and yes Death city did use a lot of water. But it was worth it. When you're surrounded by death at work, it's nice to come home to a place so full of life.

The closer they got to Stein's lab the less green everything got. It wasn't as though they were coming to the end of the city and things were starting to look more like desert terrain, it was just that everything seemed to have died. The trees were just as large here as everywhere else, but these ones were devoid of leaves. Their branches were twisted and pointed heavenward, silently pleading for rain...or to be put out of their misery. Their gnarled roots had slithered under the sidewalk, lifting up panels and making the road uneven. On either side were withered shrubs and bones. SoulEater had never really been sure what, or whom, the bones belonged to but he figured Stein had probably placed them there to scare people. He was a sadistic fuck who loved to scare people just for shits and giggles.

As if the area surrounding the lab wasn't creepy enough, the lab made the place look like a stage for a horror movie. At one time the building could have been a hospital. It had the right structure, however instead of being white it was a dingy grey with zig zagged stitch marks snaking over it. Stein had a thing for the stitched together look. He'd even tried to get SoulEater to fallow his odd fashion sense, however he looked creepy enough without looking like Dr. Franken Stein's monster.

SoulEater dislodged his wayward thoughts from his head with a small shake before peeking back over his shoulder at the girl, again. She was still behind him, her chin lifted defiantly, silently telling the eerie scenery that it wouldn't scare her or sway her from her mission.

Despite the tone she'd taken when she talked about her father it was obvious she loved him. After all what sane person would risk their life hiking through the desert and walking into a nest off assassins for someone she didn't care for.

He tried not to think about it anymore as they approached the lab's heavy metal door. After spending a minute shuffling around in his pockets he was able to fish out his keys. He quickly unlocked the door and walked in, leaving her standing in the doorway. He walked over to the stitched together couch and plopped down. It took a minute before he heard her enter and gently shut the door behind her. She wandered towards him and sat in a battered burgundy chair. The silence stretched on for several minutes. Before the girl spoke, her voice stiff. "Where is Dr. Stein?"

SoulEater had allowed his head to lull back over the couch so he could stare at the stitches in the ceiling. "He's out, probably won't be back for a few days." He responded plainly.

"What am I supposed to do here for a few days?" She growled. She obviously didn't like the idea of sitting around doing nothing.

He shrugged. "I don't know, figure out some way to entertain yourself." The girl huffed then crossed her arms. They sat in silence for a few more minutes, his fingers tapping against the couch in time with a song only he could hear. The soft melody fluttered like a tiny bird's heart. It was sweet and quieted the memories in head, allowing him to drift aimlessly for the first time in years. He wasn't sure what had caused it...but he decided it didn't matter.

A short loud series of buzzes pulled him out of his peaceful state of mind. Irritated he pulled the small silver phone out of his pocket, checked the caller ID, and cringed. He debated for a minute whether or not he should answer. Letting a soft sigh out he flipped the phone open and held it as far from home head as his arms would allow.

"This is the great BlackStar!" the man on the line screamed as loudly as he could. "Your God has called to check in on you!"

SoulEater frowned before his red gaze drifted over to the girl, who looked a little startled by the sudden screaming. He almost wanted to tell her that he was always that loud but was silenced by the sound of the front door being kicked in. Before he could turn his head a blue haired man stood on the coffee table. His green eyes bright and his smile wide as he gave some speech about his greatness and the duties of a God...which SoulEater was sure all of Death city could hear.


	3. Chapter Two: Assassins

Chapter two: Assassins

Maka had always assumed assassins would be serious and harsh, possibly even soulless. After all what kind of normal person could run out and kill someone in such a gruesome manner at a moment's notice? How did they live with it? Even if their victims had been accused of horrendous crimes how could they do it? Her only answer was that they didn't care about other people. They might say what they were doing was to protect others, but they had to just like killing. It seemed fitting enough. Especially with the pictures she'd seen of one of the assassin's kills. It'd been so disgusting to look at that she'd nearly thrown up. At first the mass hadn't looked human. On closer inspection she found it only appeared that way because the limbs had been twisted and bent. One arm had been turned as though it was a screw, snapping bones and tearing muscle until the skin had burst. The muscle resembled something like rice pudding as it slid out of the tears in the skin. Bones had been removed and sharpened into stakes before being used to impale the victim. The eyelids were even removed, forcing the victim to see everything that was happening to their body. Stamped on the wall behind the mangled body was the assassin's signature. The skull of a demon with shark like teeth and a set of twisted out turned horns painted in blood. While the name of the assassin was unknown people referred to him as the Devourer of Souls or Lucifer. The looks of horror on the victim's faces seemed to support the fact that their souls had actually been eaten by him.

Since Maka was sure all these assassins were similar to the Devourer, after all they came from the same place, she hadn't been expecting the scene in front of her. When one played with life and death the same way a child played with toys it was almost a given that they'd develop some sort of God complex. This, this however was just ridiculous. What kind of person breaks down someone's door, jumps on their table, and yells about the responsibilities of a God? It was so baffling that Maka could only sit there dumbfounded. She was rarely at a loss for words but, just how did someone deal with something like this? Her expectations on how they should be acting, which had been fractured by the white haired man, had been completely shattered by this screaming blue haired idiot.

When his speech ended he crossed his arms causing his impressive set of muscles to bulge. He had a giant stupid smile on his face and his green eyes we're dancing with a childish light. He seemed proud of himself from nearly bursting their ear drums. The white haired man didn't look even the least bit amused. "You do realize Tsubaki's gonna kill you when she sees you broke down the door, again."

The blue haired man paled and squatted down on the table to stare him in the eyes. "Come on man, cover for me, I don't want to eat canned soup for a week." The red eyed man grinned a little.

Before he could say anything a soft, gentle voice rang out. It wasn't incredibly loud but captured both men's attention immediately. "What happened to the door?" The voice didn't sound even the slightest bit surprised that it was no longer on the hinges but instead laying inside the building.

The blue haired moron smiled nervously but before he could say anything the white haired man spoke. "One of Stein's birds got loose again."

Maka wasn't sure how such an absurd statement would make any sense, especially since if something was leaving the door would be outside the building not in it, but the woman didn't press the matter anymore. Instead she said "Oh," and smiled. Maka got the feeling the woman knew he was lying but found it amusing.

The blue haired man jumped off the table and moved closer to the woman. Only then did she take in the man's height, which could only be described as freaking short. He probably only stood at about five and a half feet...maybe a little more. The woman was an entirely different matter. She was tall and had the type of curves that made men like her father drool like rabid wolves. Maka normally resented such women on principle however there was something about this one that made her hold back on such judgment. She couldn't quite put her finger on why but decided it didn't matter.

The white haired man turned back to her and suddenly frowned. She had no idea why he suddenly seemed so displeased with her, especially since she hadn't commented on his co-worker's behavior. She was just about to question him when he said "You look like a shriveled red pepper." Before she could find words to insult him, she must be exhausted because she normally came up with comebacks quickly, he stood and moved toward one of the doors to the right of the entrance. He turned back to her and, with the same bored tone he'd been using since she met him, said "come on I'd like to be able to get back and cook dinner sometime tonight."

"Don't worry about dinner Soul-Kun, I'll take care of it." She smiled softly at Maka almost to reassure her that it was ok to go with the newly christened Soul. She wasn't worried that he'd try anything. Especially given the way he'd reacted when her wiggling to get away from him had pressed certain parts of her against him. It'd taken her awhile to realize it though, another thing she blames on the heat, but he seemed to be one of the few men in the world that didn't like women pressed up against him. Why? She didn't know nor did she really want to know. She decided to take it as a blessing and followed closely behind the man's slouched back.

The door led to what appeared to be a basement...or at least that's what she thought the dimly lit stair case lead to. Instead, they ended up at another door. Much like the front door it was metal and probably just as heavy. Scrawled over the front was some strange symbol, worn with age, and impossible to see clearly without better lighting. Soul reached into the pocket of his jacket and once more fished out his keys. He undid the series of locks and latches with several different keys. The amount of time taken to open the door made her rather nervous. What was in this room that needed so much security? She should have questioned him and not just followed after him like some blind puppy. She continued to chastise her exhausted brain until she heard a soft click. The door was slowly pushed open to reveal the last thing Maka expected...a bedroom.

It was an average sized room, not much bigger then the one in her apartment, with sparse furnishings. On one wall was an old style tv that sat on a dresser rather than an actually tv stand. A battered guitar was propped up against an equally battered desk. The bed was next to it and along the wall that held the door was a shelf with a wide assortment of knives. Most, she noticed, were ceramic and would therefore not trigger metal detectors.

Before she could ask why she was brought here he pushed the curtains above the desk aside. Despite being several feet underground the quickly fading sunlight shone through the small window. He pulled something out from underneath his jacket and busied himself with whatever was at the window. Once more she opened her mouth to speak only to be stopped. This time by Soul pressing something cold, and rather slimy, to her cheek. She jumped back, nearly tripping over her bag, and stared at him. "What the hell!" she barked before realizing exactly what he'd been holding.

"Well excuse me for trying to be helpful." He snapped, the slightest traces of hurt in his voice. In one of his, slightly shaking, black gloved hands was the leaf of an Aloe Vera plant. The skin on one side had been shaved off to expose the gooey pulp. She knew it was used for treating sunburns but she hadn't expected to be drug down here for that.

Maka huffed. "You shouldn't just randomly put stuff on people's faces," she then pursed her lips and looked away, her face heating up slightly. "but thank you."

Soul looked a little baffled, as though he wasn't used to being thanked, before his bored mask slid back into place. "Yeah, whatever," he grumbled before pushing the plant in her hands. Maka slid the little plant over the bridge of her small nose and over her slim cheeks. She couldn't help but let out a soft moan as the slimy pulp worked its magic. He turned his head and cleared his throat. The assassin's face was slightly pink bringing herself to realize what sounds she made. Her face flushed in response. Soul looked away and rubbed the back of his neck.

Once again Maka found herself staring at him. The pretty rose color that now lay over his cheekbones was captivating...and puzzling. There was no reason he should be blushing like a school boy since he probably heard such sounds in much more intimate settings. He was, Maka admitted grudgingly, attractive. Not to mention he was an assassin. She might be no expert on the shady murderers, but she suspected that they were well paid for the acts they committed. So it stood to reason that they could probably pay someone to have sex with them if they didn't have the time, or were too damned lazy, to seduce someone.

Angered by the idea that the man in front of her could be so lazy she looked away from him only to have her eyes fall to something she hadn't seen before. The room was divided in half and on one side was a giant cage. It immediately sent a shiver down her spine. Her hands shook softly and she licked her dry lips.

…...

Soul felt a change in the air the moment the young woman noticed the cage. He'd tried to put off her noticing his little holding cell for as long as he could while trying to come up with some way to explain what it was for without actually coming out and telling her that he was severely mentally damaged. If he did that he'd probably have to explain his past, that was one conversation he didn't want to have. The social stigma against his appearance was nothing compared to that against people, especially men, who had been in his situation. He honestly didn't want to be laughed at. There was little doubt that if someone laughed at him and down played exactly how traumatic those events had been he'd do worse things to them then he'd done to his targets.

While his past was a very important reason for trying to keep her from noticing it the other was because of the horrid sound souls made when wrapped in fear. It was an odd cross between nails on a chalkboard and children's scream. The sound could make him physically ill if exposed to it for too long, that was as long as it was from someone innocent. His targets had never triggered such a response.

Much to his surprise her fear quickly turned into anger. Her hands were still shaking but her head had turned so her vivid green eyes were locked on his. She had such a defiant look in her eyes, silently daring him to try something. Her little balled fists where at her side's, no doubt ready to strike him if he got closer. Having already experienced the amount of force her small body could produce he wasn't exactly keen on getting closer to her, not that he had a reason to anyway.

Soul lifted his hands in an international sign for surrender before letting out a soft agitated sigh. "Damn, tiny tits, if I was going to do something to you I would have done it already."

For some reason the statement only angered the girl more. "My name is Maka, not tiny tits." she snapped "And what am I supposed to think when you drag me into a room with a cage in it? That you just have it for shits and giggles? For all I know you never had any intention of helping me. You could have just been pretending to get me down here and ask who, or what, ever you work for if you could torture me to death or something equally gruesome."

Maka stood there staring him down while her side's heaved, trying to catch her breath after her tirade. Soul could do little more then stand there and stare dumbfounded at her. It seemed she didn't think he wanted to force himself on her, but instead cut her into little pieces while she was still alive. His shoulders shook slightly and he pressed his lips into a thin line, trying to keep himself from laughing. Her reaction was so...different. He had grown use to women (those who didn't know he was Death City's most bloodthirsty assassin) immediately thinking that he was going to tear of their clothes and have his wicked way with them. It wasn't just annoying but rather crushing to his self image, not that he had the best one but still. Who wanted members of the opposite sex to flee the moment they saw him? This woman however just though he wanted to kill her. Her reaction should not have made him laugh nor should it cause a warm funny feeling to fill his chest.

After a moment he managed to calm himself. He hadn't quite gotten his indifferent mask back into place but wasn't worried about it for now. "I only ever intended to help...which is also the reason I brought you down here. If Stein gets home early and finds you wandering around he'll dissect first and ask questions later. He won't come in my room though so you're safe here." He paused, allowing his words to sink in. Maka stopped shaking and was staring intently at his face, no doubt looking for some sign of deception. Apparently not finding any she relaxed a bit. Soul took it as a sign to continue. "As long as you don't try to kill in me my sleep I won't lock the door." He stopped again and stepped to the side. "You can put your stuff in there and then we'll go back." She frowned a bit, probably not liking the idea of being separated from her belongings, but walked over and placed the suitcase next to the bed. She then returned to his side, keeping about a foot of space between them.

With that done he started walking back up to the main room with Maka hot on his heels

…...

The scent of food hit the duo the moment they exited Soul's basement bedroom. Maka's stomach growled loud enough for him to hear without using his super senses causing her to blush. Her sunburn seemed to be fading rather quickly, much faster than a normal humans would, which caused him not only to be able to see her blush but also to wonder if she was normal. She claimed her father had sent her here, if so then the man had to have worked in the city. Normally those who lived in Death city did so until they died unless they went rouge (there was currently only two and neither was old enough to be her father) or left to pursue a life that didn't consist of killing. As far as Soul knew only one man left Death city and Soul owed that man for everything he had now.

Spirit had been one of the cities assassin's and one of the first to let Stein screw with his DNA. He'd ended up becoming one of the rarest types of assassins, a Syn. Stein had once explained to him the various types of assassins and how one could tell if someone was compatible with being converted.

The most common type was Kenetic. Normally people with an affinity for a certain element made good candidates for that type. There were many, many different branches on the Kenetic "tree". Pyrokenetic and Cyrokenetic were two of the most well known types. A Kenetic had the ability to control their element. For example someone who was Hydrokenetic could control water with only a thought. The limits of their control was set by their understanding of their element. That understanding grew the more the ability was used. Very few came off Stein's table able to use their ability flawlessly (though that was true for all the experiments).

The next type was called Manifest. Anyone who summon weapons or tools at will fell into this category. Those who became Manifests had to have a large amount of knowledge about weapons. They had to know the type of weapon they were going to summon inside and out. Outside of people trained as weapons experts there was almost no one who could become a Manifest. The number of weapons that could be summoned at once varied from person to person. No one was quite sure what caused some to be able to summon more than others. Many Manifests had a specific type of weapon they liked (daggers for example) and would study that type extensively. There was a very rare type of Manifest, so rare in fact that there were only two. These people could change their entire body into a weapon. The first had only been able to change into a katana. The second could turn into whatever weapon she wished, as long as she knew all the details about it. He was lucky enough to count her as one of his friends.

The last type was Syn. It was by far the rarest...and not generally affective in combat. Outside of an amazing healing ability and the ability to track down those who committed terrible crimes (only of their Syn type) they weren't much different from regular people. The only reason Syn were hard to make was because to become one you had to have a very skewed moral system. Spirit had been perfect because the man would sleep with any willing party that had the right parts and he saw nothing wrong with it, even if he was in a committed relationship.

After Soul joined their ranks Stein had made a new type that only four people knew about. Stein, Spirit, Lord Death, and himself. Due to Soul's already fucked up genetics Stein had been able to manipulate it so he had traits of all three types. He was Sonokenetic, allowing him to control sound. He could summon up whips, chains, and all manner of torture devices. He could also track down wicked souls. All these powers took large quantities of energy. As a result he needed to eat souls. The only way to remove a soul from a body (unless you were a Death God) was to torture the person to death. So he had to torture his targets to get their souls So he could fuel his abilities until the next target came up that he would torture and kill. It was just a continuous cycle of Kill and Eat. Which is why the type was aptly named SoulEater.

His friends had assumed it was a name, and he let them believe it, mainly because he'd long since forgotten his actual name. It was fine though because the little boy who once owned that name was now dead and gone...or so he'd thought right up until he allowed Maka down into his room and pressed the sticky pulp of one of his beloved plants to her sunburned cheeks.

Soul had received the plant as a Christmas/Birthday present from Tsubaki shortly after arriving in the city. They had met only a few weeks prior. He probably hadn't said more than two words to her. The fact that she'd thought to get him something and wanted nothing in return had been incredibly foreign. Needless to say it'd become instantly important to him and, even though she got it for him because she was worried his pale skin would burn, he never used the plant when he got sunburns. The fact that he was willing to use it on some girl he just met was...well if someone had told him that morning that he'd do such a thing he would have thought they were insane. He could rationalize that he had only done it because he owed her dad for the life he had now, but That realization had only come to him in the last two minutes.

Incredibly confused he led Maka back towards the kitchen. Tsubaki was leaning over a large pot with the ever hyperactive BlackStar hovering over her shoulder...or rather around her shoulder. Soul had never quite figured out why BlackStar was so short, though Tsubaki had once alluded to a fall that had severely damaged his spine with a rather heartbroken expression. He hadn't asked any questions about BlackStar's height since then. Being vertically challenged never seemed to bother him any though. In fact he didn't even seem to notice. Even though Soul towered over him by about a foot BlackStar often said that he was the bigger of the two...then again BlackStar thought he was bigger then everyone.

The moment the blue haired man noticed the duo he bounded up to them with a grin on his face. "So, Soul are you going to introduce your God?"

Maka appeared more than a little confused by his statement. Soul wasn't worried about it though, she'd figure out soon enough that he considered himself everyone's God. He took in a deep breath before letting it out, causing it to whistle past his teeth. "BlackStar this is Maka. Maka the blue haired idiot is BlackStar."

BlackStar frowned a bit, obviously dissatisfied with his introduction. From the counter Tsubaki called out softly. "Hello Maka I'm Tsubaki, BlackStar's partner." She stepped back from the stove and began removing plates from the cabinets. "Dinner's ready." The words removed the frown from BlackStar's face and caused him to move back to his partner's side. He then began to help her only to ensure the food was served quickly (and that he'd get a larger portion then everyone else). Looking at him now even Soul had had a hard time believing that he was an incredibly talented assassin.

**An~ Sorry for such a long wait. I wanted to have this up the weekend of my birthday but...well it obviously didn't work out that way. There were so many bumps in the road to getting this written. I had actually written two or three pages before deciding it sucked and started all over. It turned out much better the second time (I could just think this because I'm in the grips of allergies and have no idea what's going on), of course I still have some issues with it. Apparently I need to end every chapter with BlackStar...why? I don't have the foggiest. **

**I'm going to take this time to thank you all for your favorites, follows, and reviews. I honestly loved them all and they made me so ecstatic every time my email told me I had another. I'm sorry if I didn't respond to yours (I honestly didn't know what to say). Anywho I hope you enjoyed this chapter...and that my explanations on the types of modified assassins was not too confusing. **

**~Beast**


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